


point of convergence

by scorpio (gradually)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, Trans Character, friendship!, its not a college au but its kind of a college au, meme voice: shes a lesbian harold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 13:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12818577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gradually/pseuds/scorpio
Summary: How Rita Calhoun met Rafael Barba.tw: transphobia and slurs





	point of convergence

**Author's Note:**

> Just a lil drabble this time! I have no clue if the whole “rafael and rita went to harvard together” thing is canon or a really powerful headcanon but im gonna go with it!!! Rita is a school year older than Rafael, so this takes place when Rafael is a first-year student at Harvard. 
> 
> I legit have no clue what the queer student programming is like at Harvard is like so im guessing the whole time!! Please dont sue me dick wolf/harvard im doing my best

Rita Calhoun prides herself on her looks. Sure it seems like a self-fulfilling prophecy a la Elle Woods to care, but she really does. No extra strands of hair out of place, a high ponytail, one fingernail painted a different color than the rest. A single carabiner with one key on the left side of her body. Immaculate and all-telling in the ways that only people like her could ever know and care to know. Her stride is learned, confident. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose with a single middle finger. Her heels click against marble floors as she makes her way outside of the building in which she takes the bulk of her classes across the quad to the smaller, much less ornate building in which she spends the rest of her time. Down a staircase, down a hall, into a closed room which she unlocks every day promptly at 9am. Rita pulls the door open, a rainbow pride flag hanging from it. She moves then to switch on the lights in the room, illuminating a group of couches, a very small but still working television, a series of bookshelves, and a “computer lab” of one very old computer a senior board member of the group donated.

 

Calhoun looks through her planner, checking off what lectures she’ll attend and which she’ll skip as a coffeemaker lurches to its existence. Only two other classes are written down in her planner for the day, but she knows that Mary won’t be here in time to keep the office open so she crosses off her 12:00 lecture. She hears someone enter and is surprised someone would want to be here so early, especially since she doesn’t recognize them at all and it’s the middle of the semester already. She’s caught off guard, lets her face show surprise for a split second before painting it with soft concern.

 

Whoever the person is, they look upset. Their clothing is ill-fitting, too loose in the way people do when they try and hide something, all in muted browns and greens. Their hair is pulled back in a loose bun and it looks like they had just stopped crying but could continue on a moment’s notice if given the chance for someone to listen to them.

 

“Hey,” She says, and clears her throat. “I’m Rita, I’m one of the board members here. Do you need help with anything?”

 

Silence, as the person tries to formulate an answer without breaking down in front of her, and she interjects, “We also have coffee and we can just sit and study together.”

 

The person smiles at that suggestion, and she begins to prepare two cups of coffee.

 

“I... Can you call me Rafael?” Rafael thinks it's the most  _ outrageous _  request given his appearance, and is surprised when Rita just smiles and does so. (He doesn’t tell her she’s the first person at school to say yes to that request until weeks after.)

 

“Of course, Rafael. How do you take your coffee?”

 

* * *

 

Rita quickly Rafael is a first-year student here on a full scholarship. Over their coffee conversation she can list off details about him: He grew up in the Bronx - a place Rita is wholly unfamiliar with - and he lives with his mom and grandmother. His favorite color is green. He’s an only child. He came out to his mom two weeks ago and she took it well, albeit she now has many questions. He visited the counseling center last week and left feeling even more horrible than he came in. Rita plans in a very protective and maternal way to get that practitioner fired and then help Rafael find an actually competent counselor.

 

The unlikely duo soon begin to meet outside the spaces they have between lecture and meet at the same coffee shop every Saturday. There she confides more to Rafael about her own life and about her aspirations. They both want to be lawyers, and they both have the sarcasm for it. Rita’s father barely talks to her and Rafael lets her know she’s always welcome with his family. She’s taken aback by his hospitality, but in perspective, Rita realizes she’s probably the only friend he’s been able to make since being out.

 

Rita has to decline the winter break invitation, citing something about a family pet that doesn’t exist, but is able to text Rafael and complain about her home life - she asks,  _ can i just complain for a sec _  - and most times he is there to say yes, to just read through walls of text, and it’s healing in a way. Rafael makes sure to be sensitive around the issue of family, only mentioning his mother and grandmother when it’s part of a joke or larger story.

 

They’re back from break and January snow is slowly tumbling into the dry, brittle wind of February. One Saturday in question they’re studying at a table in at their usual coffee shop  -  _ their table  _ \- and Rita brings their drinks as Rafael unpacks his backpack. Rita has her coffee black with just cream, and Rafael is having a cappuccino with an extra shot. He smiles at her before taking the drink and burning his tongue. Rita covers a laugh as she pulls out her textbooks. They fall into a comfortable silence surrounded by the chatter of the coffee shop.

 

Rafael is working on Latin, dictionaries in hand as he scribbles in a notebook, and Rita is typing up the last remnants of a Women’s Studies essay. Every time Rafael goes to rub the back of his neck he is pleasantly surprised by the reminder of his haircut, done over break by the combined efforts of his mother and grandmother. When Rita saw him for the first time after break, she laughed, a big cathartic  _ oh my god  _ laugh and ran to hug him.

 

They are both surprised by the arrival of a third person to their study session. The scraping of a chair is heard first before they both turn to see a white kid in a backwards visor sneer at them. Rafael recognizes them from a lecture and his blood runs cold.

 

“So,” the person drawls, “I’m with the school paper. I’m here to do a paper on the secret lives of  _ faggots _ .” The so-called reporter spits the word out as if he doesn’t want it in his body any longer than he wants it to be. Rita simply turns back to her homework and Rafael follows suit. The person stays there, rambling at them about how  _ he knows they’re both faggots _  and the words in Rafael’s dictionary don’t make sense but he pretends they do for the sake of it. He sees Rita begin to pack her back with calculated anger and follows suit, although less confidently. They rise from the table and the uninvited guest continues to ramble at them. Rita can see a group of his friend at a table across the coffee shop, laughing. She knows they’re putting up a façade but it still hurts. What they don’t know is that she has a façade of her own.

 

“I’m talking to ya,” the person continues, pointing at Rafael. “You don’t want your family knowing you’re a  _ faggot _ , do you? Or worse _ , _  whatever  _ thing _  you think you are. We all know your name -- the real one -- ”

 

In that moment, Rita likes to pretend she punched the aggressor in the face. In that moment, Rita wishes she had the guts for heroics. Instead, she spits a  _ fuck you _  in his direction and leaves alongside Rafael. walking out before they can threaten Rafael with the rising intonation, the curves and vowels of his deadname. Rafael just hugs her, grabs onto her arm the rest of the walk home, and she’s already taller than him, plus the heels, and he feels so small.

 

But she’s there for him, and he promises that he’ll do the same when her dad won’t pick up the phone when she calls to ask if she can go home for spring break.


End file.
